My World Could Be Yours
by touchnotthecat
Summary: Previously "From One World to Yours". Peter is going to University and enjoying his independence. When he meets a beautiful girl he can't believe his luck and finds himself falling for her. But when he finds out she has complicated ties to Narnia will he stand by her or the laws of that World? Story has been revamped, reworked, and basically rediscovered. Please R
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Narnia or anything related to it. Wish I did…. lol!

**A/N: **This was my first Narnia fiction and very close to my heart, I decided to pick it back up but seriously revamp it. I also wanted to mention that this story is mainly based on the movies and what transpires during them, ie. character appearances, and general events, but many things from the books will be drawn from. Also this story disregards the events of The Last Battle! So hope you all enjoy and please review!

**Chapter One**

Rubbing his hand over his face, he leant his forehead against the cold glass window of the train. Peter Pevensie was tired and slightly miffed. He had no idea that agreeing to going out with Edmund and his new friends would mean being out all night, getting totally sloshed and then having to shimmy up the drain pipe to their old bedroom during a mass of giggles from Edmund, trying his best not to wake their mother or father. It was not the way he had meant to spend the last night of his summer break.

He shut his eyes tight against the cold sunlight flooding into the car. He knew that his mother, Susan and Lucy were standing on the platform trying to spot him in the car, concern on at least two of their faces because of his stupid lie ...

'_Why Peter, you look simply awful!' Was Lucy's cry as he came down the stairs into the kitchen where the women of the Pevensie family were making their classic Sunday breakfast, which normally smelled like heaven but that morning it made Peter feel dangerously nauseous._

_His mother looked over her shoulder at him from the sink where she was filling a pot with water for the potatoes. "Oh Peter!" She said her eyes widening._

_He knew he looked dreadful, a green tinge on his face and big black circles under his blood shot eyes, he tried to smile weakly as he sank into his regular chair at the big wooden kitchen table subtly scuffing the back of Lucy's head with his elbow._

_"Oww," Lucy said quietly, but she went back to folding the freshly laundered napkins realizing she hadn't helped him by pointing out his condition._

_"What on earth happened last night!?" His mother demanded turning to face him her hands resting dangerously on her hips. Peter went to open his mouth to explain but was interrupted at Edmund's buoyant entrance._

_"Morning all," He came dashing down the stairs, fully dressed, hair combed looking like he had been an angel all night, Peter glowered at him. He would have wondered about when his brother had become a rowdy hooligan at night and perfect young man during the day but his head was too sore to bother._

_"Edmund, what on earth did you do to your poor brother last night!?" Edmunds mouth dropped open as he looked from his mum to Peter._

_"Me! ME? What did I do? I simply take my loving big brother for a night out with my chums and I get accused-_

_Peter put up his hand. He knew that the older more eloquent Edmund, the Edmund who was studying to be a barrister, if that Edmund was able to get a good rant going would rattle on for almost an hour. He could see Susan, who was standing over the stove watching the sausages and bacon, rolling her eyes. "Look mum, it wasn't anything Edmund or his friends did, I think I just have a touch of the flu, I have been feeling a bit under the mark for a couple of days now, nothing a good strong cup of tea and a bath won't fix." He smiled and his mother was appeased. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Edmund snatch a sausage of the plate of ones waiting to go out onto the table and take a big bite, Peter had to control his urge to gag. ..._

Now here he was sitting on the train, about to go back to Cambridge for his second year of study, hung over, pretending to be sick in front of his mother and sisters. Peter knew for a fact that he and his friends had not been getting into the trouble Edmund and his friends were getting into at nineteen years old.

He opened his eyes to see his mother and Susan waving at him from the platform looking concerned. Lucy was standing with her arms crossed looking sceptical, he wondered how she always managed to be so perceptive, even at seventeen years old. He glanced at Susan, she was so sweet, she had packed him some crackers and jam for the journey, incase he felt ill again, a common Pevensie cure for the queezies.

His father had told him in confidence that a new young man for down the block, by the name of Alex Scott was paying her a certain attention. Peter had bristled in a big brother sort of way, asking his father if she wasn't a little young to be aware of young men. His father had shrugged saying she was twenty one, and a bright young woman. Peter didn't think that was much of an answer.

He found himself questioning a lot of his fathers decisions when it came to his newly grown up siblings, like the freedom he gave Edmund, Peter wouldn't have done that and didn't when they were...elsewhere.

As the train started to slowly roll forward Peter sat back closing his eyes, the train car he was sitting in smelt like moth balls. He was aware that his thoughts verged on Narnia. His eyes opened as the name floated across his mind. He rarely thought about it anymore. It had been so long ago and felt separate from his current existence, more like a fond dream one keeps coming back too.

Now at twenty two he was growing up, becoming a man, was already there in many peoples opinion. It was odd growing up here, it felt much more complicated because of course it was his second time. In Narnia though it had been different, much simpler somehow.

As his mind wondered over his lost existence, the sweet, sumptuous smell of vanilla came wondering to his nose. His eyes opened as an odd sensation came over him like all of his extremities were slightly numb. Sitting up he looked around his compartment. It was made up of just the two benches covered in an old red satin that was worn and lightened on the actually seats. The sliding glass door was frosted and shut to give him the elusion of privacy. Standing up he had to mind knocking his head on the over hanging copper bar that held leather strips which joined to the wall; on top of which rested his old suitcase. He moved across the compartment in a couple of steps and opened the door putting his head out to have a look around.

Up and down the corridor was abandoned but he did hear a door slam from his right but when he turned his head in the direction there was no one to be seen, he figured the person had just entered their compartment. He rolled his eyes and sank back into his enclosure.

Settling down and kicking off his highly polished shoes he put his feet up on the seat across from him settling in for the long ride as the sounds of the rocking train lulled him into a much needed sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Rubbing his eyes, Peter pulled down his suitcase and his thick woolen over coat. The train had stopped and he was feeling much better for his nap. He shrugged on the black pea-coat, looking out of the window. It was misty and there was a wet looking cold hanging in the air in Cambridge. He didn't feel like leaving the snugness of his compartment. It had been an unusually chilly summer and it didn't seem to be letting up.

Picking up his suitcase he walked out of the compartment and got off the train. He could feel the moisture resting on his skin as he stepped into the open air. At his tall stature he looked over most of his fellow students. Peter debated with himself whether to hire a cab or just walk to the dormitories. It was a nice brisk walk but with his suitcase and the weather he didn't feel in the mood at all.

"Pe-ta!" The simperingly posh voice called to him over the platform. Peter turned blinking over the crowd and saw the arm waving at him over the people. Following the arm to the body he found the face of the person and had to hold back a groan.

It was Muriel Andrews, a girl who had come to know him through a series of friends, even Peter didn't know how she justified her friendliness. All he knew was she went to Gertin College, her family was very wealthy and when ever she talked to him she never looked him in the eye.

"Oh Peter how lovely to see you," She came to stand in front of him, inspecting his hair quite intently. She had this most irritating way of making him feel like a piece of meat, being inspected for sale. She had cropped her hair over break into a severe looking bob with too short bangs. Her head was tucked under a cloche hat that was a deep green with a golden broach speckled with emeralds on the lace ribbon that rang around it. She was wearing a long brown suede jacket with thick fur lining spilling over the collar and cuffs. In honesty it repulsed him, he hated to see girls or women or men for that matter wearing fur, it had been a change of heart, too say the least.

She was smiling breathlessly at him and he tried to smile weakly back at her. He could see her maid struggling behind her with her trunk and a few porters followed her with a number of different sized suitcases and hat boxes.

"Mmm, yes nice to see you Muriel." He smiled tightly.

"Did you hear, simply beastly really, we lost in a polo match to Oxford," Peter was slightly taken aback by her random comment and tried to think to what she could possibly be referring to and then it occurred to him that there had in fact been a polo match between the two schools but that had been a good month before break and only someone sorely lacking in sports knowledge would refer to something like that.

"Yes quite," Peter replied noticing her eyes had moved down to his mouth. He shifted from one foot to another, uncomfortable under her unwavering gaze. "Are you just getting back from break?"

"Oh yes, frightfully boring really, I went to see my Aunt and instead of going to the Riviera as promised, we had to stay in Paris the whole time." She laughed airily and looked at him expectantly.

Peter finally realised she was expecting him to comment and it dawned on him that he was trapped on the sidewalk hands in his pockets in a kind of invisible prison. "Oh well, I wouldn't actually know the difference. I have never been to France." Her face fell visibly.

All of his friends had warned him that she was under the impression that he was the heir of the Kirke fortune, who he had spent the war with but he wasn't sure how she even knew that he knew Professor Kirk. And Peter had no idea how to drop into the conversation that to the best of his knowledge he wasn't about to be in the top ten richest men in England in the near future nor would he hope to if it meant the loss of the dear friend. Anyway Professor Kirke had inexplicably lost his fortune and was living very modestly in the country now and had been for quite a few years.

"Well, you must be glad to be back at school." She said brightly.

"I am Muriel, but I really must be going I have some unpacking to do and some reading before class tomorrow." She nodded brightly.

"All right then I will be sure too see you around," She smiled with a wicked gleam in her eyes and turned waving her fingers over her shoulder.

"Mmm, quite," said Peter quietly too himself. He turned on his heel and started to walk down the street opting out of the cab.

As he walked down the street, suitcase in hand he loosely wondered about the classes he was going to have to pick up again, what his good friends Freddy and Charlie were doing and if they had arrived back yet; if Charlie had plucked up enough courage to ask Cecilia too the sea with him over break. Charlie had liked Cecilia since they had been in primary school together and wouldn't let Freddy or Peter forget just how wonderful she was. Peter could remember the time that Freddy had referred to her as 'dumpy' without thinking about it and Charlie had cuffed him one. They didn't speak for weeks after that. Peter was the one too make them patch things up.

As he strolled along lost in his thoughts of what he might have to expect this coming term, that smell of vanilla crossed his nose again. It was the most intoxicating smell. Something one didn't smell in London or in Cambridge or England for that matter...no, this smell was altogether to ... _Whole_ to come from his own word. His eyes which had previously been watching the sidewalk pass under his feet, snapped up scanning around for the smell.

"Oi, wotcher mate!" Huffed a guy pushing past Peter who hadn't realised he had stopped.

The thought of calling bugger off to the bloke crossed his mind but he thought better of it, the rashness of youth ebbing away from his consciousness, the cold London exterior fading from him as the softer, more calm persona of his scholar like self took hold. When Susan had visited him at school she said she hardly believed it was in fact the same person, same brother.

His eyes scanned the street surrounding him and across the bustling road but nothing caught his eye no bouquet, no building the smell might have bled from, nothing. Then a flash caught his eye.

Starting to walk again, Peter's eyes kept trying to find what they had glimpsed only seconds before and then he fixed on it. It was a mass of golden curls, the likes of which he had never seen before, the colour reminded him of...of Aslan. Never had anything ever reminded him of Aslan until now. It was tied back loosely at the nape of a girls neck.

Peter couldn't help but let his pace quicken. Following her, he took in everything about her he could. She was wearing a hat pulled down over the top of her head but unlike Muriel's it was perfect for the dreary day in a gray silvery tone with a dark purple around it, nothing fancy. She was wearing a matching gray overcoat that was synced at the waist, which Peter did notice was in fact quite dainty, with a matching belt of the same material as the coat. She was wearing light stockings but not the ostentatious kind with the line down the backs, Peter found them false looking, for lack of a better word. Her shoes were black patent leather that were shinned beautifully with a high heel that got steadily thinner as it went down until it looked as if the girl was walking on pins. She had a red clutch bag tucked tightly under her right arm and walking at a surprising pace.

Peter didn't realise it but he was holding his suitcase in front of him much like a plow to separate the people in his way as he dodged through the crowd to get closer to her.

She veered off down the main road turning right around the corner leading away from the college and without a hesitation or thought Peter followed her. She always managed too keep well ahead of him at this infuriating pace. It was enough to drive him mad.

Suddenly she stopped, looking out into the road and went to cross the street and for the first time Peter got to see her front. She was truly the most enchanting thing he had ever seen in his life and that was no small feet. Her eyes were hazel but the lightest hazel he had ever seen. Her nose was long and straight, her mouth small and dainty, a rosy pink shade.

She stepped out into the road as if to cross and Peter found himself running towards her.

"Miss!" The word shot out off his mouth as soon as his foot hit the street coming down from the exact part of curb she had come down from. He wasn't sure how it happened but he had somehow caught up with her and was in fact right behind her. She jumped, even with the loud traffic noise his tone was still loud. She turned suddenly her hair flying around her, the ends barely brushing over his face. The smell of vanilla nearly overpowered him. She stared up at him with a look of shock but not alarm or fear. Her eyes took him in steadily.

Her mouth opened ever so slightly her lips just parted. For once Peter was glad he didn't exactly look shabby. His dirty blonde hair hung just off his face his blue eyes staring down at her. In his six foot frame he felt positively manly when she looked at him.

'_Amazing this reaction, to someone you have never met,'_ The though crossed his mind in the same way a breeze passes over a field just lightly, only brushing the surface because all that seemed to really stick in his head was her and the sight over her. But the honking horn soon snapped him out of his reverie. They were after all standing in the middle of a very busy street.

Both of them looked to Peter's left to their horror and saw a double decker bus speeding towards them.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

To their horror a double-decker bus was speeding straight towards them. Peter acted purely on instinct.

He grabbed her by the upper arms and just flung himself backwards. She luckily grabbed the lapels of his coat so she had a good hold of him. They both smashed onto the cold wet sidewalk to the shock of pedestrians who hadn't been paying much attention to anything. The bus flashed by, horn honking angrily. Peter looked up slightly. He couldn't help but notice the girl had her head buried in his chest. Unfortunately for him, he also saw as the bus was driving by it moved towards the curb slightly, splashing into a puddle of water that had accumulated at the side of the road due to a stopped up drain. Despite his best efforts to shield them both, the wave-like plume of water managed to drench them both.

Peter watched as the bus hurtled down the road. He looked over the girls body to his right hand which was holding not only the girl's arm but what it could of the handle of his suitcase. Expecting to see it open from the jostling and impact of hitting the ground, he was shocked to see it was still latched, his clothes not strewn all over the sidewalk.

"Excuse me," The voice was quiet, gentle. Peter looked down and found the hazel eyes looking up at him. She smiled, her hair wet but not soaked; beads of water rested on the bright curls, "Um, do you mind if we get up now?"

Peter realised to his chagrin that he was still holding her rather tightly and not only that but instead of jumping up instantly and helping her too her feet they were still, in fact, lying on the filthy ground. "Goodness, I _am_ sorry." He got up and as he did so he helped her to her feet. He noticed the belt of her jacket had come undone and revealed a form-fitting ivy green dress underneath. It was knee-length opposed to her coat that went mid calf, with a thick belt around her waist and buttons up the front to a v-neck.

Her smile was so bright, Peter couldn't imagine any other girl smiling like that after being nearly hit by a bus and then getting drenched with street water. "Oh I don't mind at all, you did save my life!" She said brightly. As she spoke she looked down at her self. As the water set into her hair she did look something like a drowned kitten. "My, my, " She said appraisingly. One of her perfect shoes had a nasty cuff that probably wouldn't polish out, there was a ruddy great hole in the left side of her stockings where she had landed and one of the heels had snapped and was dangling off her shoe.

"Oh I am truly sorry, not much of a hero am I?" Peter said running his hand through his wet hair. There was a tear in the side of his trousers as well but he didn't care nearly so much as he imagined she did.

"Oh pish tosh," She said looking back up at him. It seemed to Peter that for the first time she really looked at him, her eyes took him in slowly, yet seemed to take no time at all. He wouldn't mind at all if she looked at him like Muriel did. "You are a perfect gentle man." She said looking back in his eyes. It was impossible to say what she actually thought of him. "Oh my goodness look at the two of us, if you didn't mind, my flat is just around the corner, we could dry off and have a cup of tea...if you weren't in a rush anywhere."

For a very fleeting moment the thought of his school work washed over Peters mind but ultimately it didn't really make much of an impression. "Oh yes that would be lovely." Her smile broadened and he simply delighted in her reaction.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

They walked down the street together, soaked, looking very odd indeed to the passers-by. She turned down a side street where there was only pedestrian traffic and the concrete slabs of the pavement turned into old cobble stones. She had introduced herself as Evelyn Potter when they had taken off down the road together and Peter had introduced himself.

She turned down another right and he found himself in an almost hallway. The buildings were so old and so hurriedly built that at this point they had fallen forwards so much the front peaks brushed each other. At the end of the walk there was a wrought iron gate that hung gracefully. If one was to look through the bars of the gate they would see a small courtyard filled with planters and such. Evelyn smiled up at Peter as she had to reach over his body to get at the latch for the gate.

As they walked into the courtyard Peter noticed that there was five doors that led on to the courtyard; two on either side and one in front of them. Without a moment's hesitation she strolled across the courtyard to the door across from them, she was careful not to trip over the tricycle that was up ended in the middle of the courtyard. Peter followed her feeling like a bit of a prat still carrying his suitcase. They stopped at the door and Evelyn looked at her bag for the first time.

The top had unlatched and she hadn't noticed until just now. "Oh no," She moaned.

"Is there anything missing?" Asked Peter careful not to look into her handbag.

"Well, just my keys." Evelyn said sulkily.

"I suppose we will just have to go back and look." She looked up at Peter, obviously the thought of being so close to fresh, dry clothes and not getting them was almost too much for her to bear. "Or..." Peter was trying to think quickly on his feet, which is very hard when one is soaked and cold, "Is there a café near by that you could wait in while I go and look?"

She looked up at him, one hand still in her purse. She laughed airily. "Thank you but I am fine." She knelt to her door mat and pulled up the far corner so that Peter couldn't see what was under it. He thought for a moment he could see her mouth move.

"Sorry?" He asked leaning forward slightly not wanting to miss anything she might say to him.

Evelyn looked up at him, a key hanging off a bit of string in hand, "Pardon?" They both smiled.

Peter looked in through the window by the door and saw a thin satin curtain hanging over it, making it impossible to see into the room. All of a sudden the curtain moved and a black cat jumped on to the window ledge. Peter smiled a half-smile to himself. The cat looked straight at Jenny, Peter had supposed that the cat had heard them, it was completely black with enormous amber eyes. The eyes turned to him and blinked a couple of times. Peter wasn't sure if it was possible but the cat defiantly looked dumb founded. Then suddenly it hissed viciously, jumping down.

Peter raised his eye brows and looked at Evelyn. She was staring at the now empty window sill her mouth slightly open a shocked look on her face. She looked at Peter and smiled breathlessly. The key was in the lock but she had stopped mid-turn.

"Sorry, he is still slightly feral." She shrugged looking down.

"I don't mind as long as he doesn't attack me when I come in." He said laughing.

The door unlocked and swung open. Evelyn stood up and looked thoughtful, "He might, couldn't say really." With that she walked into the house.

Peter stood dumb founded on her stoop for a few seconds before she looked out at him in the middle of taking off her coat. "Well, are you coming in or not?" She smiled.

"Sorry," He walked in and closed the door behind himself. He wiped his feet on the inside mat and looked around. In front of him there was a mirror and on either side were a great number of mounted hooks, hanging from them were many different shapes and styles of hats and scarfs.

On his right there was a door that led into a small sitting room with an enormous fire-place with an ornate chestnut mantle. There was a very squishy looking sofa in a deep green fabric with a matching love seat. To his left was a small kitchen, the cupboards were all white washed and the sink was clean. In the middle was a huge thick wooden table that looked like it had seen many meals made on it. In the back there was a staircase with a heavy banister and steep stairs. Outside Peter had counted another two floors of windows and wondered if the rest of the house was as cosy as this first floor. He kicked off his shoes and found that his socks squelched as they hit the stone floor. Evelyn looked up at him at the noise, she was leaning over the fireplace getting a fire going. She smiled. He was amazed that the smile ever left her mouth.

"Come here," She said brightly. Putting her hand on the thick iron grate, she pulled off her shoes, they must have been tight at the wet splash that sounded as her foot came out. She giggled as Peter moved into the room. He had to duck his head to avoid hitting the beam in the door way. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to Evelyn whose hand was waiting for it. She hung it up in a coat stand beside the fire-place and did the same with hers as she pulled it off. She had a bit of trouble with her arms because the sleeves of her dress ended at her elbow and the wet jacket material stuck to her skin. Peter helped by pulling the cuff of the sleeve.

"Thank you," She hung up her jacket.

Soon Peter's socks, his tie, and sweater vest were hanging over the grate drying slowly as his sports coat hung by his jacket. He sat on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, his toes wiggling in the heat. He had untucked his shirt to help it dry faster and was quite happy and comfortable. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and looked on the walls. They were covered in an array of sizes of hand painted pictures. They were mainly landscapes with a few animals in some. Peter squinted at one over the fireplace, it was a mound with trees growing up the sides.

"Here we are," He looked up from the picture to Jenny. She had come back in with a large silver tray with a matching teapot and set. She let it down on the small round coffee table that rested between the couch and the fireplace. She poured out two cups. "Sugar? Milk?" She asked looking at him, she had tied her hair back back into a bun but a few strands had escaped and framed her face.

"Please," Peter responded. She finished and handed him the cup. It was by far the best cup of tea he had ever had since going to his grandmothers.

And so Peter sat in the warm living room, his cloths slowly drying, he was secretly wishing they would dry slower talking to a girl, this mysterious smiling Evelyn, about the most normal and extraordinary things.

As he stumbled into his room, and he put his suitcase on his bed Freddy came barreling into their room. Freddy was his roommate and had been just down the halls in the communal bathroom. He was in his old boarding school house coat and was towelling his hair dry.

Freddy was as tall as Peter maybe a few inches shorter but was far more muscular than Peter from all the sports he played. Freddy was the classic Athlete, he was on the rowing team, the rugby team and the boxing team. If it wasn't for the sports program Peter wondered if Freddy would go to Cambridge at all, for he certainly wasn't a sharp hand at academics. But he definitely was one with the ladies, with jet black hair and big light blue eyes he was something to look at.

"I say old chap," Freddy said flopping on to his already mussed up bed, "You've been out? Fall down a rabbit hole?" Freddy was always frightfully good show, his father was a hereditary Lord and Freddy was actually His Right Honourable Frederick William Kinston the third.

"No actually," Peter sat down on the edge of his bed feeling dazed. "I...I um, I think I saved someone." He looked Freddy in the eye when he spoke.

"By jove, look at you what on earth happened!?" Freddy said sitting up and looking at Peter's crinkled shirt and his tie, sweater vest, and socks in hand.

"Well you see..." Peter delved into the story with Freddy listening in disbelief.

"Good God man, what are the bloody chances?" Freddy ran his hand through his hair making the still damp hair stand up on end. " I mean really, look at you, and you just sat and talked after her saving her life?"

"What do you mean 'look at me? And what else do you think we would do?" Peter said feeling rather self-conscious.

"Well certainly something more interesting than discuss the bus schedule." Freddy leant back on his pillow again.

"We didn't talk about the bus schedule and just because I didn't attack her like an animal doesn't mean she isn't interested. "

"Sure she does, mate sure,"

"Well actually we are meeting on Friday to go to the English department dinner party, the one too welcome students back." said Peter. He stretched his arms, resting his hands behind his head. Freddy turned his head to face Peter his eyebrows raising, Peter raised his own eyebrows.

"Well, I say good son, it seems that my finesse is finally starting to rub off on you."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Ok All, strap in for a long one. I hope you are enjoying my story and my characters that I am bringing to the table. Just a glimpse of Freddy, and a taste more Evelyn. Oh and please, any feedback is welcome! Thanks -Cat.

Chapter Five

"Just one moment please, I'll be right back,"

"Sure mate whatever you say, it's your dime," But Peter wasn't listening to the old cabby, he was far to nervous as he fidgeted with the cuffs of his tuxedo jacket. It was a formal cocktail party. He ran a hand through his hair not taking a step from the cab. Had he remembered to tell her that it was a formal party? Yes, he had defiantly told her it had been when they had bumped into each other...

It had been the most extraordinary thing. After his first physics class back at school, he had walked back to the dormitories when there she was, walking out of the library, a few big books in her arms. She was wearing a navy pinafore dress with a crisp white shirt under it, her hair up in a ponytail. She looked down the sidewalk that rang along the front of the library and deeper into the campus and saw him and smiled.

Peter had realised then to his embarrassment that he didn't really know that much about her. When they had spoken at her flat they had really talked about him more than anything. It had been odd. He tried to recall asking her things but it seemed a complete blank.

She walked over to him briskly arms full of the big old books. "Hello Peter," She said brightly.

"Evelyn, Hello, what are you doing here?" He smiled pushing his heavy leather book bag behind him. "Can I give you hand?" He asked motioning to the books.

She looked at him and then at the books in her arms. She bit her lower lip obviously thinking, "Actually, if you really don't mind?" She asked with a guilty expression.

"Of course not," Peter said smiling brightly. Evelyn let him take the top two books which were extremely heavy. He had wondered vaguely how Evelyn had managed all three. "Where are you headed?" He asked smiling, hefting the books into a better position.

"Um, actually just home, I just came to pick up the books." She smiled at him shyly.

"Oh well I am just going to the dorms which _are_ in the same direction." That was a bold-faced lie but he figured that she would forgive him.

"Wonderful, once we get there I can manage the rest of the way," The two started walking across the enormous green courtyard between buildings.

"Oh no, I don't mind at all. I have some chores to do in town anyway." Peter said shrugging in a casual way.

She asked looking at him with those dazzling hazel eyes, "Really?"

"Mmm, yes, I said I would have a look at my cousin's..." Peter pretended to clear his throat while he tried to think of something, "Bike," He smiled down at Evelyn.

"His bicycle?" For some reason the word sounded odd as it tumbled out of her mouth. He smiled at her, his eyes closing slightly as he studied her, her tone had reminded him of something but he couldn't place it. She raised her eyebrows, "What?" She asked a smile barely painting her face.

"Nothing, uh... no actually it's a Motorcycle." Peter said casually.

"Really? Your cousin owns a motorcycle?" She said, her voice was breathless with an excitement that Peter hadn't been expecting.

He looked back at her, "Yes,"

"And you can fix this motorcycle?" She asked her eyebrows going up. She was walking sideways so that she was looking directly at him. He gave her a jubilant half-smile.

"Yes I have always been able to fix things like that." Peter said shrugging.

"Really? Goodness," She started waking straight again, her smile fading a little as if she was lost in thought.

Then Peter said something he didn't completely think through. "Would you like to go for a ride on it?" Peter said, he took a few fast paces and then started walking backwards in front of her.

Her eyes widened. "Your...your cousin wouldn't mind?"

"No, no, Eustace is a...generally speaking...all around good chap." Peter said shrugging, he wanted to stop his mouth from digging this hole but as he spoke her expression became more and more excited and he thought he might fall over.

"Oh my, that would be... well simply amazing."

"Wonderful," Peter fell into step with her again. They were in a comfortable silence but then the cover of the book she was holding caught his eye and he looked at the ones in his arms.

"I say, Alchemy? Do they teach that at Gertin?" Peter said looking at her on his right side. She looked at him.

"At what?" She asked her eyes had a puzzled look.

"Gertin, the girl's school." Peter explained.

"Oh," Evelyn laughed airily. "No..well I suppose they might, I am not really sure, you see I don't go to Gertin."

"Oh," Peter's brow furrowed. "So is this just some light reading?"

She chuckled, "No, no, you see my guardian is my tutor and he went and taught here so, they let me use to library when I need too,"

"I see, must be a frightfully eccentric chap to be teaching you about Alchemy," Peter said looking at her from under his hair.

"Well, yes, he is really, but then I am a bit odd as well." She shrugged.

Peter laughed for lack of knowing what else to do, she sounded quite serious.

They walked, casually chatting until they reached her front door. "Can you come in for tea?" She asked.

"Well, I would love to but unfortunately I can't, I simply must study this dreadful book about physics." Peter said his heart falling at having to decline. But his spirits did rise when he saw her face fall as well. "But we are still on for tomorrow for your test drive?"

"Oh most defiantly," She said smiling brightly looking slightly like a child in a candy store.

"Brilliant, I'll pick you up at noon than?"

"I'll look forward to it." She said brightly.

Peter felt the air in his lungs build up uncomfortably as Evelyn unlocked her door. "Um, just quickly, do you remember... I mentioned the party for the English department?"

Evelyn looked at him, "Yes,"

"And I invited you?"

"Yes,"

"Well I just wanted you to know that it was formal wear, I mean...well I will be wearing a tuxedo. Professor Phillips, the head of the English department, is very strict about proper dress and decorum, and such."

"Oh is that all?" She asked sighing and slumping a little.

"Yes, why?" He asked confused.

"Oh I just thought...well, I assumed you were trying to get out of it or something," She said smiling and blushing at the same time.

"Oh no not at all!" Said Peter.

"Well, perfect I think I have the perfect dress, I'll see you tomorrow then." She smiled.

"Till then." Peter waved her through the door after handing her the books. He walked casually down the lane and looked back over his shoulder at her kitchen window and saw her standing in the window looking out the lace curtains. When she saw him she tried to duck but there was a distant crash of a plate breaking. Peter took a step forwards his eyes wide with worry but then he saw her hand appear in the window sill and wave at him. Blushing he continued down the road until he turned out of sight from her flat and took off at a sprint.

When he got to the next telephone booth he threw himself into it and dialed the number that he knew off by heart. "Eustace Scrubb please,...Eus? By jove thank goodness I caught you! Look I need you to do me a favour...because I am your oldest cousin and you respect me...alright fine, look will you be home tomorrow around noon?...YOU WILL! Brilliant, look I need you to pretend that my friend Freddy's motorcycle is yours and...well I don't know pretend to be a bit of a rebel...look you are going to pretend it's yours and you asked me to fix it for you...because mechanics are expensive and you know I have a talent for those things...you don't even own the bloody thing what do you care if I make a mistake!?...look the point is, I fixed it and now you are letting me borrow it...nothing, the satisfaction of helping out a friend...what do you mean not good enough...three pounds that is day light robbery!...oh bugger it, fine, okay, see you then, bye."

The next day Eustace stood in front of his townhouse home with Peter's friend, Freddy, staring at motorcycle he was supposed to pretend was his. He squinted through his glasses that he was still getting used too, at the sun glinting off the chrome of the bike.

"Over all she handles beautifully, accept, well damnedest thing really, may have raced a wee bit hard for the old girl and fiddled with the suspension. Mmm, pulls slightly to the right as well, Peter has gotten me out of a few sticky wickets with the old doll face, simply love the old chap, really do. Most important female in my life."

Eustace looked at this Freddy chap, "You are talking as if you expect me to ride the thing?!"

The man rounded on him and pointed a finger in Eustace's face, "First off mate it certainly isn't '_thing' _it's Anna-Maria." The fellow took a deep breath, running a hand through his black hair. All in all, Eustace found the chap a bit unnerving, but then he had never been around anyone so exceedingly wealthy. When Peter had mentioned his friend's name it rung a bell in Eustaces' head and when he had walked into the family room he had seen his mother's society magazine and there was a picture of a family and listed the names of the members and there was Freddy's. "And secondly, what if she wants to see you take a spin on it?"

"Well she is jolly well going to be disappointed." said Eustace, outrage and fear building inside him.

"I say, steady on old chap." Freddy said looking him up and down with a worried expression. Freddy put his hands in the pockets of his long khaki slacks that had wide legs. He was also wearing a blue and red rugby shirt, that made Eustace uncomfortably self-conscious standing next too him, he muscular and wealthy and Eustace, a gawky sixteen year old, who now had to wear glasses to add insult in injury.

"Have you by chance seen this maiden of Peter's?" Freddy asked looking at Eustace from the corner of his eye.

"No actually," Eustace said putting his hands on his knees and looking at the bike, trying to look like someone who knew what they were looking at.

"I am not sure what to expect really, I mean Pete is a good enough chap and I am sure he can do all right but then she got excited about a motorcycle and studies Alchemy sounds like a bit of a tire biter if you ask me." Freddy looked down at Eustace, "By jove are you all right mate, you look like you have a case of that indigestion people talk about."

Eustace stood up and looked at him slightly insulted, "Excuse me but what do you mean by...What do you mean people talk about indigestion?"

"Well I wouldn't know, never had it you see, bloody lucky by the sounds of it too." Freddy said going up and down, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Eustace was going to retort but a cab came bustling around the corner and both boys got distracted. The back door opened and Peter got out looking very cheerful in his khaki's and a white shirt. He turned back to the cab (after raising his eyebrows at Freddy and Eustace) to help Evelyn out of the back seat.

Both of their jaws dropped looking at her. Freddy had never imagined her to be so amazingly...perfect. When Peter wouldn't stop ranting about how gorgeous she was he could only assume that Peter was talking about beauty in the same way Charlie spoke about Cecilia, in that love is supposedly blind way. But now he was desperately wishing that he had met her first. Heavens he would have pushed Peter in _front_ of the bloody bus to meet her first. Eustace simply couldn't believe that Peter could hold the attentions of someone so dazzling when they didn't know he was the high king of a secret magical world.

Evelyn was wearing a light blue woollen Argyle sweater and a full knee-length black skirt that had a white stripe running around to the hem. Her hair was tied back into a tight French braid. In her arms she carried a slight basket covered by a red and white checked napkin.

Peter held her hand as they walked up to the boys.

"Hello mates, this is Evelyn Potter. Evelyn, this is my friend Freddy, and my cousin Eustace." Peter said, he was positively beaming.

Evelyn smiled warmly at the two of them and said, "Nice too meet you both,"

"Quite," Eustace said heaving a dry swallow.

"It is my absolute delight to meet someone who is simply as delightful as you." Said Freddy with a Roguish smile.

Evelyn smiled her eyes glinting and she looked up at Peter. He smiled and shrugged, he had warned her in the cab about Freddy's flirtations. "Thank you," She turned to look at Eustace, "And I simply didn't know how to thank for letting me do this, I am dreadfully excited. But I did bring you this."She handed him the basket and he happily accepted it.

"Well thank you, I mean the old girl pulls a bit to the right and once while I was racing I might have been a bit too hard on the suspension but all in all she is steady, Peter knows how to handle her. Gotten me out of a few scraps this lad has." Eustace stopped with a smile. Freddy and Peter stared at him with open mouths. Peter wasn't sure if he was more shocked at Eustace's unexpected little speech or the fact that he had just referred to Peter as '_lad'._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"Hello," Evelyn smiled at Peter through the open door way. Her smile really did make his knee's feel shockingly like jelly. Her hair was swept up into a golden mass of curls, her dress was a shocking emerald and fell off of her shoulders into sleeves with slits up the sides. Her waist was synched in with a wide black leather belt and from there the soft skirt fell down like a waterfall.

"Hello," Peter felt a little breathless. "You look absolutely lovely." He smiled brightly at her and she blushed looking down.

"Let me just get my shawl and then we can leave." She disappeared back into the house and Peter stood hands in his pockets wondering at how he was so lucky to meet her. He looked up at the stars and thought back to the previous afternoon...

As they roared around the quiet country street of the farm land surrounding Cambridge, Evelyn held on tighter, her arms wrapped around Peter's body. He thought on the look she gave him as he got on and offered a hand for her to hold as she got on the back of the bike.

It was a look that made him feel like he was the only person in the entire world that mattered to her. She ignored the gawking stare that Eustace was giving her, didn't even glance back at the sly glances Freddy was giving her. She was only looking at him.

As they roared around yet another tight turn her arms got tighter around his body. Her fists holding a good amount of the shirt he was wearing, he couldn't help but smile, he had never felt this good. This weightless.

"Would you like to take a break?" He called over his shoulder to her.

He could feel her nodded against her left shoulder but she still yelled, "Yes please,"

He worried for a moment that she had been scared, but as soon as they got off the bike he could tell she was simply just exhilarated.

He put the kick stand down on the bike and leaned back against it looking at her, he crossed his arms. "Does that smile of yours ever fall off your face?"

She turned and looked at him. She had pulled the battered helmet off and her curls were everywhere, bouncing out of her braid. She laughed, "Usually I am not this giddy," She walked over to stand in front of him. "I don't know, Peter Penvensie. You're sort of like bubbles."

He furrowed his brow but continued to smile at her and chuckled, "I'm sorry?"

"You know," She blushed but continued to talk, looking him in the eye. "in soda, when you drink it right after it's been opened and all the bubbles tickle your nose, and you can't help but smile."

Peter threw back his head and barked out a laugh.

"Don't laugh at me! "She said punching him playfully in the shoulder.

"How could I help but?" He laughed putting his hands on either side of her. She looked down at her feet but smiled, gently letting her hands fall on his shoulders. "Where did you come from?" The smell of Vanilla washed over him as the breeze wafted over her.

She looked at him a half-smile pulling at one side of her face. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Peter shrugged, "I manage to sweep you off of your feet one day, I tell you my basic life story over tea while my clothes dried and I feel like I don't know you at all." She looked down the road they had come from with a confused look on her face. Peter worried he had said something wrong. "Well, aside from your fascination with motorcycles." She giggled but turned away from him all the same and walked over the gravel side of the road they had parked on.

Peter stood up and followed her. At the side of the road, long reeds grew up separating them from the wide canal that rang along the side of the road.

She put her hand out and brushed the tops of the grass with the palm of her hand with a far away look in her eyes. Peter walked up, hesitating slightly, he put his hand on the low of her back. She seemed to shiver under his touch.

She glanced at him. "You seem familiar to me,"

He smiled down at her but caught off guard by the way she spoke, it was like a forgotten tongue that nagged at the back of his brain. "Do I?"

"Yes, but not like someone I have known but as someone I should know. It is a hard feeling to express." She was talking with a slightly different accent. It was odd but it seemed natural to hear her speak, like Peter was just hearing her speak for the first time.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged and walked into the grass. He followed her until they were at the edge of the canal. She sat down and he sank down beside her. It was as if they were in a little nest, invisible to the road. She looked out over the water and it glistened in the late afternoon sunlight making her hair look live woven sunlight. He smiled at her.

She looked at him leaning forward and letting her fingers trail over the surface of the water, ripples waving out from her hand. "Ask me whatever you wish..."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Well, this will take some thought, won't it?" Peter lay back into the grass, rolling on to his side and watched her. She was smiling patiently at him and he considered what he really wanted to ask. "Where are you from?"

"Somewhere very far away." She smiled at him.

He shook his head, "Could you be more specific? I was very good a geography, so you don't have to worry."

She shook her head, "No, it isn't that," She looked back over the water, "It isn't a question I could really answer for you."

"You aren't German are you?" Peter asked jokingly.

"No, I'm not, far from it in fact." She watched him smiling.

"Alright, how is it that your parents will let you live on your own in Cambridge?" He raised his eyebrows. He couldn't imagine his parents having the same sort of reaction if Susan proposed such an arrangement.

"They died a long time ago." She looked out over the water and he found her looking... angry instead of sad.

He watched her, before looking down. "I am sorry."

"Don't be, you had nothing to do with their murders, of course." Peter looked up at the word that seemed to hang in the air between them. Evelyn was pulling up the grass beside her feet. "They died when I was little... five or so. My father died trying to stop them and my mother... she gave her life for nothing in exchange except for betrayal and destruction." Peter stared at her as the anger melted away and he could almost see the weight of saddness coming down on her shoulders and he was struck by just how small she looked.

She looked at Peter with tears in her eyes. "You must think me frightfully silly," She hurriedly wiped away the tears with the back of her hand, "Crying over something so long ago."

"I don't think your silly." His voice was husky, "It isn't just losing your parents, it is having them taken from you." He looked out over the water. The ripples in the canal from the breeze glistened to an almost white. "I don't know what it's like to lose a parent, but I know what it is like to have something that is dear to you taken away."

He could feel her watching him. He wondered if she would ask about what he had lost but she didn't. He looked back at her after they sat in silence for a minutes.

"How old are you?" He asked.

She looked back at him. "Twenty, you?"

"Twenty-two." He sighed. "Who is your guardian?" His voice was soft.

"An elderly gentleman. He lives in the country, he helped me find a home and gave me a future. I am indebted to him, more so than words can say." She moved herself forward and lay down in the grass on her stomach in front of him. "You told me about your siblings," She put one hand under her chin and held herself up surveying Peter with the most enchanting eyes.

"Yes," Peter lay back. "Susan just wrote to me actually. She is going to a seamstresses course in London. She always loved dresses and such. I am happy for her but we have grown very far apart. Ed's the same old Ed. Even if he does get into some activities I don't agree with. Lucy is the same old Lu, she's very smart and in her last year of school." He looked up at the sky putting his hands under his head. "It's odd really. I don't feel like their brother, more like their father. It's hard to adjust I guess." He suddenly realised that he hadn't ever said that out loud before. He hadn't really even thought that. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to rattle off like that. I'm sure you find me quite boring."

He turned his head to look at her and she was, of course, smiling. But in a warm sort of heart-felt way. "You're not boring at all." Her voice was soft and Peter felt carried away by the very sound of her.

He blinked a couple of times and felt a more hedonistic part of his brain switch on. He cleared his throat. "Shall we head back?"

She looked at him. "Certainly." They both clambered up out of the grass. "I suppose your cousin will want his bike back before too long."

Peter shrugged, "Never can tell with our Eustace." He got back on the back of the bike and handed her the helmet.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

He watched her standing across from him. Her dress was amazingly flattering. Peter felt so proud to walk into the room with her. He was certain every man in the room had seen her enter.

She sipped champagne and twitched her nose. He remembered her saying he was like soda bubbles and he smiled brightly.

"What?" She said noticing him watching her.

"Nothing,"

_Evelyn took the helmet from Peter and turned it upside down and pulled the straps out of it. Peter suddenly found himself standing up off the bike... walking over to her. She looked up at him with a slightly surprised look._

_"What?" He took the helmet from her hands, and leaned back to put it on the seat of the bike and turned back to her. "Peter?" He held the tops of her arms and pulled her closer to him._

_"Evelyn," He spoke softly down to her, "I'm glad you came with me today." He felt her hands rest on his chest._

_"I'm glad I did too." She looked up right at him, holding his eyes in a trance._

_He leaned forward slowly letting his lips come in contact with hers. He held her tightly and he felt anchored. More anchored to his life then he had felt since he had come back from Narnia the last time. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She let her arms go under his and held his shoulder blades. She didn't shy away from the kiss or from the passion, that Peter was doing his absolute best to hold at bay._

_She lifted herself on to her toes making the kiss even deeper. Peter moved his arm, making sure to put his hand behind her head holding her close. His tongue slipped into her mouth. He could feel her hands clench into fists on his back, handfuls of his jumper in her hands._

_After a few seconds locked in the embrace Peter pulled back panting. He noticed Evelyn's lips were swollen and pink. He smiled down at her. "I should take you home." He felt like he was yelling even though he spoke in a near whisper._

_"You really are a knight in shining armour, aren't you?" Was all she seemed able to say._

Now they were in Professor Phillips evening party, watching people file in.

Both of them opened their mouths and turned to look at each other. Seeing them both about to speak they both burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry, please." Evelyn waved a hand for Peter to speak.

"No, I was just going to ask you if you had a nice time yesterday?" Peter felt his heart catch in his throat waiting for her reply.

She blushed and looking down said "Yes, thank you." She glanced up at him under her thick lashes. "I had a lovely time. Thank you so much for taking me."

"Well," Peter felt the heat rise in his face. "I'm glad you had a good time." She giggled.

"PE-TA!"

"Oh no," Peter looked at Evelyn who was looking up at the sound of his name being called. Peter swallowed and looked around. Not in all his years as a Narnian King had Peter met a more terrifying prospect then being cornered by Muriel Andrews at a dinner party.

"Peter who is that?" Evelyn had raised an eyebrow staring across at Muriel. She was wearing a dreary salmon pink cocktail dress. From hearing Susan tirade Lucy a thousand times for trying to wear the colour, Peter knew that it was an inappropriate colour for girls with any kind of dark colouring.

"Oh lord, it's a girl who won't leave me alone." Evelyn turned and looked at Peter with shock all over her face. "I know I sound dreadful but really, she won't take the hint." Evelyn pursed her lips and looked back at Muriel who was still trying to get herself over to Peter. "She really is awful!" Peter felt like he shouldn't have been so honest. Evelyn probably thought he was the perfect cad now.

"Pe-ta," She said his name in the most simpering way. It took all of Peter's self control not to scream at her 'PeteRRRR! PeteRRRR!'. "How lovely to see you at this old event."

The sheer grandeur of the evenings required dress and staggering spread made 'old event' a definite understatement. "Muriel," Peter gave a curt smile and put his hand on the lower back of Evelyn who was standing right beside him. She had a nice smile on even if it was rather tight lipped. "Good to see you, this is Evelyn Potter,"

Evelyn opened her mouth to say hello but Muriel cut her off without even glancing at her. "Pe-ta you simply must help me with my Latin. My professor is giving me the most frightful time of it and I can't understand what she wants me to say! Can you imagine? I mean really! And I have it on very good authority that you are simply fabulous at Latin." She smiled at Peter, tapping him lightly on the chest. He noticed that when she smiled it didn't reach her eyes.

Peter glanced at Evelyn who looked like she'd been slapped in the face. Peter bristled. He had no intention of letting Muriel make Evelyn feel like an outsider here. "I'm sorry Muriel, I don't think you heard me, this is Evelyn Potters," Muriel blinked a few times, her smile faltering every so slightly. She glanced at Evelyn, giving her one sweeping up and down glance. It was the ice glare.

Evelyn didn't even flinch away from her stare, admirable, most girls Peter knew were terrified of Muriel and horrified at the very idea of being on her bad side. In fact, Evelyn put on a bright smile and Peter noticed it was the first time he had seen her smile where it _didn't_ reach her eyes. To both Peter and Muriel's surprise she spoke before Muriel had the chance, "Yes, I'm Evelyn, Peter's date for this evening,"

Muriel's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her fringe. "Mmm, I'm sure." Was all she managed to reply in a clipped tone.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hello all, thank you so much for the reviews and please keep them coming! Finally getting into new content hope you like the story and Evelyn. Her and Peter's story is far from over!

Chapter Nine

They ambled down the cobblestones, Evelyn's arm wrapped through Peter's. They laughed, recalling the night, as they headed towards her front door.

"Did you see her face? I don't think anyone has actually talked to Muriel like that in her entire life!" Peter said a deep laugh in his voice.

Evelyn giggled, "Or Freddie after his fourth brandy? I thought he was actually going to dance on the tables," They stopped at her front door and she reached into her clutch for her key, "Here I thought that was only an expression you hu- British used."

Peter's head swam with the champagne bubbles, his eyelids heavy as he looked at Evelyn. She looked up at him biting her lower lip but stopped as soon as she saw his eyes resting upon her, "What?"

"You!" Peter said simply, He took a step towards her, placing his hand on the nape of her neck, "How was I so lucky as to discover you, simply walking down the street?"

Evelyn smiled brightly up at him, "I am feeling very much the same Peter Pevensie." With that she leaned up on her toes and let her mouth brush against his. But Peter wouldn't let her flutter away, his lips come down with more pressure, his other arm wrapping around the low of her back, crushing her body to his.

The passion she returned was something that again caught him off guard, instead of shying away, she seemed to welcome it. Quickly she wrapped her arms around his neck drawing herself even closer. Peter's hand worked its way into her hair, disturbing her ornate up-do.

The alcohol that swirled through his blood stream gave Peter the devil-may-care attitude, that he lacked before on the riverside. The lack of which made him pull back. But now, Peter pushed her against the front door. Her body felt small under his but not fragile. He was not scarred of hurting her for she seemed to welcome his intensity.

His lips broke away from her, exploring her cheek, her jaw bone, down to her neck. Her breath came quickly, it was hot…. very hot. Peter felt colour rush to his cheek as her breath brushed over it. Suddenly Peter felt heat wrap around his hand that was in her hair, and could almost hear the crackling of a fire….

He pulled back suddenly and looked in Evelyn's eyes. They were bright as they took in his face. "Peter?" She whispered. Her breath washed over him and the scent of Vanilla washed over him, as if rolling through his entire body. Without thinking about propriety, without thinking it had only been a week since he had met her, Peter stepped up again and crashed his lips down on hers.

Evelyn reached around behind herself and turned the door knob, sending them both stumbling into her home.

Peter felt sunlight dance across him eyelids, and grudgingly allowed them to open. He had to blink a few times until she came into focus. Evelyn had reached out from her side of the bed to push the curtain open. Peter assumed it was early morning from the sunshine. His eyes were soon tracing down her back, trying to take in every detail of her golden curls cascading down her porcelain skin.

The reality of what they had done last night came flooding back to him with startling clarity. He had to take a good number of deep breaths as flashes ran through his mind, her hands tightly entwined with his, her gasp in his ear, the feel of her soft skin under his body.

Suddenly a growl in his ear brought Peter swiftly back to the moment, and he turned to see Evelyn's cat sitting on the bedside table to the left of him. It's ears were back and he was hissing viciously.

"Nike, that's enough!" Evelyn snapped, and the cat blinked glared at her and then let down and scampered out of the room. Evelyn snuggled under the sheets again, and came to lie beside Peter, she noticed his eyes open, "Good morning," She said a soft smile playing across her lips. Lips Peter remembered brushing over his skin last night.

He swallowed loudly, "Good morning. How are you?" He asked, the words sounded cumbersome even to him.

Evelyn must have heard it too, she held the sheet around her and raised herself on to an elbow looking at him closely, "Peter are you alright?" She looked concerned. Not angry, not ashamed, just worried about him.

Peter was no innocent flower, but unlike Freddy, he was not in the habit of jumping beds left, right and centre. He had immediately been worried Evelyn would be upset or embarrassed, after all it had only been a week since she had met him. Peter sat up and looked at her, the sheet falling down to expose his bare chest. He suddenly felt very vulnerable, knowing he couldn't stand it if she was to turn away from him.

He met her concerned gaze, "Evelyn, I want you to know I don't often do…. this sort of…"

Evelyn's face instantly blushed, she pulled the sheet a bit tighter around herself. "I'm sorry… I didn't….."

Peter realized how he sounded, "Oh no, no, nothing in regards to you!" Peter sank down into the be, moving closer to her again, "I want you to know I care a great deal about you," Peter put his hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing over it. "I have no regrets, and I hope you have none either,"

He kissed her lightly on her furrowed brow, and then the tip of her nose, and then just let his lips brush over hers.

Evelyn looked up at him, her eyes really were huge, "Of course, not Peter, I just forgot." She shrugged, and he noticed that accent he had heard at the river, dance through her words again. He couldn't place, it maybe Italian… no… possibly Greek?

"Forgot what?"

She sighed and shook her head, her hair rustling around her, "You make me feel so safe Peter," Her eyes came up to his again, "I forget sometimes that things are different here, etiquettes differ." Peter furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak, "Not that I do this sort of thing either!" She giggled watching relief flood his face, "It's just where I am from one doesn't shy away from a connection, and I have never had that before until I met you."

She blushed again, her eyes falling to the bed sheet. Peter put his finger under her chin lifting her face, "I won't disappoint you," With that Peter kissed her again making them both fall back on to the bed.


End file.
